Rebel with a Fist
by Ian Reid
Summary: Duncan enters a new school where he soon learns that strength defines popularity. Soon he becomes involved with a battle to bring down the most popular girl and bring order to all things. Fists will fly, bones will break, spirits will be tested, and this school year is just starting!
1. New Student

Chapter 1: New Student

"Wow. This place is a dump."

The statement was one made in observing the state that Southrock Regional High was in, and a declaration Duncan couldn't bring himself keep privately as he looked it over from the edge of the grounds. The entire exterior was in shambles: cracks scarred the face of the school; trees were dried and withered, if not already dead; trash littered the ground as if no one picked up after themselves; windows were missing, replaced with several layers of plastic sheeting kept in place with copious amounts of duct tape, the cause, Duncan observed, being a student tossed from a window screaming to the ground below. Yet this was the school Duncan was transferred to, whether he liked it or not.

And for the most part, he _really_ didn't like it.

Duncan walked across the courtyard, nearly tripping and falling into a small crater a good five feet across and half as deep. He surveyed the courtyard, seeing other such craters across it of varying sizes. He moved around the crater and continued on to the entrance.  
"So far, this place kinda sucks," he said to himself, startled from his thoughts at the sound of glass shattering and a scream from above. He looked up just in time, holding his arms outward to catch the falling figure. He held the figure close to him while he pulled his bag over his head, shielding them both from the oncoming shower of glass. He took the moment to examine his catch. She wore green khaki high-water pants, a grey sweater and a dress shirt underneath. She was caramel-skinned with a peppering of freckles sprayed across her nose and cheeks and shoulder-length brown hair. She was still clearly in shock from the fall, grey eyes darting around before settling upon Duncan standing over her, inspecting his face, from the piercing in his nose and eyebrow to his ear rings and then to his green Mohawk.

"Didn't know cute girls fell from the sky around here," Duncan said joking, pushing the girl to her feet. She pushed off him, taking a few steps away and looked about bewildered as to what exactly just happened.  
"Who the hell are you?" she exclaimed, uncertain how exactly to treat Duncan, apparently not yet registering the fact he caught her.  
"You're welcome, sweetheart," Duncan answered, rather indignant at the lack of gratitude, not that he ever expected it in the first place. "But since you asked nicer than most have, I'm Duncan. I just transferred." The girl's eyes lit up at the sudden revelation of her situation and looked at Duncan more carefully.

"You… caught me?" she asked, taking another step toward him. Duncan nodded; slightly irritated it's taking her this long to figure it out.  
"So, do hot babes jump out of weather-laminated windows often around here?" Duncan teased. She crossed her arms in a huff.  
"For your information, I didn't jump, I was kicked," she stated in a matter-of-factly tone. "And I would have been fine on my own." Duncan held back a scoff.  
"Didn't look like it from where I was standing, princess," he said. She glared at him a little darker.  
"That's Class President Courtney to you," she corrected, "and I will thank you to remember it." Duncan rolled his eyes at her.  
"Whatever, princess sounds better anyway," he said, walking past her to the entrance. She blocked his way inside.  
"Where do you think you're going?" she asked. "I'm not done talking to you." Duncan furrowed his brows at her.  
"Well I am, and I want to actually be on time for class for a change," Duncan retorted. He shoved her bodily out of the way, opening the door and going through. He wasn't in the mood to listen to her protest and examined the school interior.

For the most part, the inside looked better kept than outside. White-washed walls were decorated with artwork donated by past alumni, posters for upcoming dances and club meetings were spaced neatly and the tiled floors were bright and shining, as if they were recently polished. Duncan was rather overwhelmed by the massive contrast, and at the same time impressed. The halls to his left ran to a staircase, while the one on his right bent right again toward classrooms. Ahead of Duncan, the administration office sat in the middle, two paths on either side connecting to wherever else the corridors behind it led. Duncan approached the front window, seeing a student seated at the front. She had long blonde hair and wore a pink tank top. Duncan stood at the window, clearing his throat.  
"Give me a sec, my nails are drying right now," she said, not bothering to look up at the person addressing her. She thought for certain whoever was bothering her wouldn't mind the wait.

She had clearly never met Duncan.

Duncan pressed his face to the window, screwing up his face to look even further grotesque and rapped on the window to get the girl's attention again. She looked up, annoyed at being bothered and let out a scream at Duncan's face pressed against the glass. He pulled back, making a popping sound like suction cups and could barely contain his laughter at the girl's reaction. He glanced over to Courtney standing beside him, looking very un-amused. The girl behind the window stood once she recognized Courtney.

"Courtney, who the hell is this?" she asked bewildered, almost in the same tone Courtney had asked just moments earlier. Duncan sighed at the sudden sense of déjà vu.  
Courtney approached the window. "Sorry about that, Dakota," Courtney said. "Do we have any new transfers named Duncan coming in today?" Dakota opened a drawer underneath the desk, leafing through the folders, found one, and opened it.  
"Only one transfer, named Duncan," Dakota said, sliding the sheet to the slot in front. "That's your schedule, so you better learn it." Duncan took it and looked it over. He smirked and waved it to Courtney as he started toward the stairwell.  
"See you never, princess," he said over his shoulder.  
"Where are you going?" Courtney shouted after him.  
"I'm at a new school, I want to make a good first impression," Duncan replied, still heading toward the stairwell.

"I said wait, damn it!"  
Duncan stopped on the steps heading to the second of three floors, turning to see Courtney on the landing. She caught her breath a moment longer before taking two steps at a time before she was level with him.  
"Listen, I'm thankful you saved me, I really am," she said, "but you're new here and you don't know the protocols." Duncan hated that she was right on that front. He clearly knew nothing about protocol, but that was only because he didn't really care for it.

"And what, pray tell, are these 'protocols'?" Duncan asked, gesturing with air quotes to emphasize his question.  
"You must attend a welcoming committee headed by the Principal and myself," Courtney answered, standing a little straighter, like it was her idea to hold a welcome committee in the first place. Duncan regarded her a moment longer, decided he'd heard enough and continued climbing the stairs.

"Hey!" Courtney exclaimed, sounding rather indignant at his silent rejection of the proposed protocol. "Where the hell are you going?"  
"To class," Duncan responded, as he kept climbing, "I don't do welcome committees." Courtney grunted in irritation. The first welcome committee she got to head and the new student blows her off!

Duncan, for a moment, felt a pang of guilt about leaving Courtney on the stairwell like that. Fortunately for him, those feelings were quickly replaced with irritation when he thought back to how she was getting in his way. Yeah, OK, she was cute, he argued with himself, but there's no way he'd go out with such a control freak. He couldn't deal with procedure and protocol; he had no head for it. He hated following a system. It made life boring. There was no sense in it. He always did what he wanted, and it worked out just fine at East Blues. He wasn't going to start now.  
Duncan reached the second floor, checking his schedule again and finding his classroom number after a few minutes of searching. He eventually found Room 213 with little trouble, and upon introducing himself to the teacher Mr. Nelson, he was welcomed into the class with a warm reception. He was directed to the empty seat near the back by a window and sat down for class.

Duncan packed up at the end of class, grabbing the text book Mr. Nelson had set aside for him to study from for the semester. Duncan checked his schedule again, exiting the classroom into the hall and went in search of his next room.  
"There you are!"  
_Oh, come on! Does she _ever_ give up?_ Duncan spun on his heel to face Courtney, fed up enough with her constant hounding.  
"Listen, princess, as far as first days go, this one has sucked with you constantly on me for nothing," Duncan snapped at her. She opened her mouth to argue in turn, but was stopped as someone called for her.

"Courtney! Oh, thank God you're alright!" Duncan and Courtney glanced over to the approaching source; being an unkempt scraggly rat of a boy with a squashed face and a shock of bright orange hair covering his head. His white tank-top was stained, clearly unwashed in several weeks. He was thin, almost wiry, but Duncan saw the build of muscle on him. Courtney scowled at his presence and crossed her arms turning away from him.

"Oh come on, Courtney!" the boy said begging. "I'm sorry I didn't have your back, but I really needed to pee! You couldn't have waited to face Heather until I got back?" Courtney rolled her eyes at him and rounded to face him.  
"You're supposed to have my back, Scott, and you couldn't even do that!" she snapped at him. "Sorry, Scott, but we're through. You abandon me one time too many."

Scott opened his mouth to argue the point further, but Courtney, having enough of his excuses, punched him square in the face, and the force of it sent him flying down the hall for fifteen feet. Duncan gawked as she relaxed her form, and turned again to face him. He wasn't the only one to notice, of course, several students and a few teachers were awe-struck at the display of power from such a slender frame.  
Many students muttered in surprise and shock, "Iron-Fisted Courtney has smote another evil-doer!" said one, "She's so scary when she's mad!" said another. "I think I peed a little," said a third with a whimper.

"Now, about that welcome committee?" she said, cracking her knuckles.  
"Like I need any more convincing!" Duncan replied quickly. "Lead the way!"

Author's Commentary: I wanted this chapter to be longer. Then I decided it was too long, so I decided that the rest of the chapter would be better off as the next chapter. There are really few changes from the original concept here, the document kind of had an episode and I had to try and rewrite a lot of it from scratch again. But most of it was intact, I just had to rewrite a few parts of it, which seemed to be an improvement over the original. I guess Courtney punching out Scott works as a sample of what to expect in later chapters. I wanted at least one fight per chapter, which was why I wanted chapter 1 to be so long, it would build up to the fight at the end of it. But I guess having Courtney punching out Scott would count as a moment of catharsis.


	2. Welcome Committee

Chapter 2: The Welcoming Committee

Courtney knocked on the Principal's office door with a sharp rap, just below the brass plate with, "Principal O'Halloran" engraved in place. The door opened to who Duncan supposed was none other. She was an older woman, mid thirties or early forties, with shoulder-length, two-tone blonde hair like she was hiding her age in dye and make-up. She regarded the two with bright blue eyes.

"Courtney, I see you found our new student?" she said gladly, swinging the door inward to let the two into her office. Duncan staggered a step as Courtney nudged him in first.  
"Sorry to take so long in bringing him, Principal O'Halloran," Courtney said. "He was being…stubborn."

The principal's office was rather spacious, two shelves lined with books stood against the wall opposite the door, the principal's desk lay on the left, furthest wall while a table and a few chairs sat on the right, closer wall. Behind Duncan, on the wall from the door hung several certificates and degrees, a few of which, Duncan wasn't sure seemed like a necessary qualification, boasting of her martial arts ranks. The table at the right wall closest to the door was adorned with a covering and a small, round cake decorated in white frosting, with, "WELCOME NEW STUDENT" written cursive in red icing. Duncan had never seen a cake before, let alone tasted one. He wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Well, I'm sure he has his reasons," the principal said. Duncan broke from the catatonic state the cake's presence seemed to have put him in, looking back over to the principal.

"I just didn't want to be late to class," Duncan said shrugging. The Principal chuckled lightly. She sat on the edge of her desk, seeming relaxed in her position.  
"It says in your files from East Blues you had a very spotty attendance record," she said, touching a folder on her desk. The folder in question was thick with reports, Duncan was sure, about altercations and incidents that involved him, whether involuntary or otherwise. Duncan crossed his arms.

"I believe in second chances," he said.

The door behind Duncan and Courtney opened, both students turning to behold the new entrant. He was ruggedly handsome, with well-cropped black hair and thin stubble. He wasn't as old as the principal, but he certainly had an air that put him just under her in years.

"So, did I miss anything?" he asked eagerly, about the room.  
"Good of you to join us," the principal said, "Duncan, this is Vice-Principal McLean." McLean nodded in Duncan's direction and gave off a bright smile. Duncan thought he went blind briefly from it.

"Cool, the new student," McLean beamed. "Call me Chris. Unlike _Mildred_ here," he jerked a thumb at the principal and exerted a great deal of emphasis into the mentioned name, "I just like to be on first-name basis with everyone. It makes me feel like I can connect with the students better." Principal O'Halloran forced down her expression of disgust, whether it was from the name or the lack of professionalism of the vice-principal, Duncan was unsure. The moment presented itself an interesting insight into the two's relation, and Duncan couldn't help but take notice.  
"I'll remember that, Chris," Duncan nodded.

Courtney, at that moment, decided to remind everyone else of her own presence in the room.  
"Now that we have introductions out of the way, can we get to the committee agenda?" she asked. O'Halloran rolled her eyes in defeat of Courtney's urging.

"Fine," she groaned and focused again on Duncan. "Here at Southrock Regional, we do things a little differently than your old school. We're a little more relaxed in discipline than East Blues you will find. We believe in letting our students resolve their problems on their own before they decide to allow a teacher's involvement."

"You let a lot of fights happen, then?" Duncan asked, crossing his arms. O'Halloran nodded.  
"No doubt you saw the state of the courtyard on your way in."  
"East Blues was famous for keeping up good appearances," Duncan said. "They even made us wear uniforms that were itchy as hell." O'Halloran chuckled and Courtney even fought the urge to laugh. Was the thought of him in a uniform really that funny to them?

"The point is, this school is very unlike where you transferred from," Courtney said after her giggling fit. "But don't think you can just challenge anyone here." Duncan cocked an eyebrow. Were they suggesting _to pick fights_ with other students? Duncan's muscles tensed.  
"Why would I want to fight anyone?" Duncan said.  
"Your record is lousy with reports of fights from East Blues," O'Halloran answered that one. "The Lizowski fight was one report that is…kind of famous for how brutal it was." Duncan tightened a fist. The fight was one he didn't want to remember. He wasn't proud of it. But that was a long time ago. The guy caught him on a bad day and he cut looser than he should have.

Duncan stared at the floor. "I can't go through that again," he said.  
"We're not saying you have to fight," Courtney clarified. "We're just saying there are some students who choose to fight, and others who choose not to. What you choose is up to you."

"Can we skip the mushy stuff and cut the cake already? I haven't eaten today." McLean asked. Duncan felt tension ease as the vice-principal changed the subject.  
"Always the food with you, Chris," O'Halloran huffed. "Fine."

The pleasantries in the office lasted until the bell rang to signal the end of third class, by that time students were ready for lunch. Duncan and Courtney emerged from the office to a chaotic gridlock of students passing through the atrium to the cafeteria.

"Well that was eventful," Duncan said, still rather full. "Don't think I'll have to worry about lunch today."  
Courtney looked at him. "You did have five pieces of cake," she answered curtly. "It's as if you've never had cake before." Duncan nodded.  
"My parents are complete health nuts," he said.  
"So what about you?" Courtney returned to face him, "You used to fight in East Blues, what happened?" Duncan slightly bristled.

"I don't wanna talk about it," he said, trying to dissolve into the crowd of students to go to lunch. He was stopped as a group of students pushed him aside.

"Watch it!" Duncan snapped. The group turned to face him; at their center a tall girl with a long black hair in a burgundy halter top regarded him coldly. Courtney took a step forward to stand beside Duncan. The girl looked at Courtney with a murderous glare, and turned to a shorter, rounder girl with brown hair up in a ponytail. The tallest girl with black hair lashed out angrily at the shortest, swatting her several times about the head until her glasses fell from her face.

"You said you'd take care of it!" she shouted. "You are so useless, Beth!" The shorter girl covered her head at the other's lashing out, bending down to fumble around the floor for her glasses.  
"I'm sorry, Heather," Beth whined pathetically, "I kicked her through a wall and a hallway window! There's no way she could have survived the fall!"  
"None of your excuses!" Heather snapped, lashing at her again. "I don't want to hear it." Heather glared at Courtney, sneering to shrug off Courtney's triumphant poise.

"So," Duncan glanced to the two parties, "much as I like to watch girl on girl action, I'll let you two go make out or something." Heather regarded Duncan with a look that felt like she was trying to burn a hole through his head.  
"And just who the hell are you?" she asked.  
"I'm Duncan," he said. Heather snorted unimpressed.

Courtney took a step forward. "Word of advice, Heather," she said, "Next time you send an assassin, try to do it when someone isn't in the courtyard to catch me." Heather's eyes scanned Duncan coldly.  
"Never seen you before," she said with deduction, "so that means you're new and just transferred, or you've been here all along and I never knew you existed."

"Just got done meeting my welcoming committee," Duncan replied. Heather's dark eyes flashed sadistically with a thought.  
"A new guy," said Heather, "Alright, then. DJ!" Behind Heather, a tall African-Canadian boy stepped forth. He was a broad-shouldered, barrel-chested tower of a boy wearing khaki shorts, a T-shirt and a skullcap.  
"Yes, Mistress?" the teen asked bowed as Heather addressed him.  
"This student is new," Heather directed to Duncan, "Let's give him a welcoming committee of our own." DJ looked down at Duncan, then back to Heather.

"As you wish, Mistress," he said, cracking his knuckles. He wound up, pulling his fist back and gave Duncan a hard right jab. Courtney recoiled in horror.

"Is that really all you've got?" Duncan asked, unfazed by the fist driven into his left eye. Heather let out a slight, shocked gasp. DJ didn't realize until Duncan spoke up. He pulled back for another barrage of punches. Duncan leaned left and right out of each punches' path. Duncan raised a hand, catching DJ's next punch and spun on his heel, sending the larger athlete into the nearby wall. Heather and the rest of her entourage and whatever other students present gasped in shock.

"You're just a big ol' soft-serve, aren't you?" Duncan asked taunting. "I knew a girl back at my old school with a harder punch than that. She could carry twice her weight in shopping bags while sipping a latte _and_ texting." DJ stood, shook the daze from his head and charged again at Duncan. Duncan slid a step to the left, out of his path. DJ got in close, getting in several body shots on Duncan, who seemed rather unfazed from the whole assault.

"Why don't you fight back?" DJ asked. "I'm giving you the beat-down and you're just shrugging it off? Come on, man, fight back!" Duncan leaned his head to the side, the fist missing him by inches.  
"You're not fighting serious," Duncan answered. "Really try to hit me like you mean it and maybe I will." DJ wound up and delivered a hard left uppercut. Duncan leaned back, the punch brushing just lightly against the tip of his nose.

Duncan looked bewildered at DJ. That was a close call. Duncan could feel, just from the brush against DJ's knuckle that was too close. He really meant that one to hurt.

"Now it's serious," Duncan said, grinning. He lowered his stance and exhaled. DJ charged, but Duncan struck first. His fist struck DJ square in the face and sent him spinning through the air, and crashed into the far wall of the hallway right at the school entrance. A stunned, silencing gasp consumed the gathered crowd that watched the fight, Courtney and Heather included.  
"Aw, dude, that was awesome!" someone in the back of the crowd shouted at the display.

"So," Duncan turned to Courtney, "What's for lunch?"

Author's Commentary: There you go; the first fight of the story. I feel like it's relatively underwhelming in terms of fight scales, but this is just the first of many. Depending on how I write the chapter, the fight that follows in it could be really awesome or kind of weak. I wasn't planning on introducing Blaineley or Chris until a few chapters later, but found that introducing them this chapter got it out of the way and not cause complications further down. There will be more of McLean in this story, I assure you. DJ and Duncan's fight was longer in my head, but when I wrote this up, it felt so right. I feel it gives an indication on where Duncan's strength level is insofar, and I can scale others' strength accordingly. That exchange with Heather and Beth was a scene I wrote originally and wanted to expand on it, but never got around to it. I thought it might have been a great way to give insight on what happened to Courtney before Duncan saved her at the start, and liked its overall feel. I kind of liked how this chapter turned out.


	3. The Hierarchy

Chapter 3: The Hierarchy

The lunch cafeteria was alive and vibrant with talk of the new transfer student beating one of Heather's subordinates. Some were excited there was someone who could possibly challenge Heather, others were concerned it would be a repeat of past challengers never to be seen again.  
Heather was furious, just the same.  
"Do not be so concerned about it for now, _mi amor_," the boy beside her said, resting a reassuring hand to her shoulder. "We'll deal with him all in good time." Heather snorted her cynicism to her boyfriend.  
"He shouldn't have been able to take down DJ that easily," Heather said, trying to analyze the new transfer student—Duncan, was it?—as he sat with Courtney and other students joining him.  
"Get his file, Alejandro, I want _everything_ on him," she said finally. "He has weaknesses and I want to bust them wide open before I destroy him." Duncan looked up from his table at her, and she sneered.

"Don't bother, she already hates you."  
Duncan looked away from Heather's table at Courtney sitting across from him. He sat back and crossed his arms smugly.  
"If all of her lackeys are that soft, I don't really have to worry, do I?" he asked.  
"DJ is just one of many," Courtney countered. "She is the top of the hierarchy and everyone else bends to her will."  
"So what?" Duncan asked. "I climbed to the top at East Blues."

"That's just the problem, though," said a new voice, one that made Duncan look over. "You're not at your old school." She was short enough that the top of her head was just under Duncan's shoulder, with bright red hair kept in short braided pigtails. She wore a strapless red top, light olive khaki high-waters and wedge-heel sandals. Courtney motioned her to have a seat and she did on Courtney's left.  
"Duncan, this is Zoey," Courtney introduced him.  
"Saw you take out DJ," Zoey said, nodding in acknowledgement. "That was so cool. I never saw anyone take a punch like that, before."  
"It's nothing," Duncan shrugged. "I'm just resistant to so many attacks before I have to defend myself." He stirred the mashed potatoes on his tray before scooping them with his fork and taking a bite.

"That is your Aura," said another girl approaching the table. She was shorter in size and stature than Zoey. She was a pallid complexion, with waist-length light blonde hair. She was dressed in a conservative fashion; a dark green sweater over a light blue shirt, black mini skirt and violet stockings and black leather loafers.  
"Hey Dawn," Zoey greeted the new girl sitting down on Courtney's other side.  
"My…Aura?" Duncan repeated. Dawn took a cup into both hands and drank from it for a moment.  
"Everyone has an Aura," Dawn explained. "Those attuned to them will use them for various reasons. But here, most use their Aura to fight. An Aura grants someone special abilities during fights; Your Aura, for example, shields you from a certain amount of damage. Yours is the Rebel Aura." Duncan only heard someone else at his old school go on about Auras before: an old teacher who seemed stoned out of his mind twenty-five hours a day. He always sauntered into the classroom, wearing a ridiculously tacky Hawaiian shirt, spouted some nonsense, then wandered out claiming he was in the wrong room before a student corrected and dragged him back in to teach the class. Those were fun classes.

"How would you know all that?" Duncan asked. Dawn took another sip of her tea.  
"I can read everyone's Aura here," she answered finally. "Yours is very interesting, Duncan."  
"Oh, yeah?" Duncan asked, still unconvinced, "How so?"  
"It's unusually strong."  
"How strong are we talking?" Courtney asked.  
Dawn took another sip of tea. "Almost equal with Heather," she answered. "Chances are, with him, we might have a chance now."  
"Any of you want to fill me in on what she's talking about?" Duncan asked.  
"Heather's been the seat of power for the student body since high school started for us," Zoey explained. "Basically, Courtney has been trying to rally other students to back us in a rebellion against her."  
"I thought Courtney was the Class President," Duncan pointed out, remembering that was what she said to him earlier.  
"I am," Courtney reassured. "But my power means nothing because Heather is the most popular student and that makes her the strongest of us all."  
"Thought you said this was different from East Blues," Duncan said to Zoey, drained his milk carton and finished off the last few scraps on his lunch tray.  
"So you did this before?" Courtney asked, "you fought at your old school?"  
Duncan stood and picked up his tray. "I don't wanna talk about it," he said sternly.

Dawn hurried at a pace down the hall to catch her class. She wasn't often one to be late, but Zoey had to take the time after Duncan left at Lunch to talk about Mike. Bless her, Zoey had a good heart and Aura, Dawn thought, but her obsession would surely destroy her at some point. Lost in all her thoughts, Dawn forgot to watch for the path she wove through the other students and bumped into the last person she wanted to meet that day.  
"Why don't you watch where you're going?" Jo asked gruffly. She towered over Dawn by a head, broad-shouldered and intimidating as all conceivable possibility.  
"Sorry," Dawn shrank at Jo's steely gaze.  
"You'd better be," said Jo, "now get out of my way; I'm gonna be late for Chemistry." Jo stumped past Dawn butting into her shoulder as she passed. Dawn squeezed the strap of her courier bag.  
"Jerk," she muttered under her breath.

Jo stopped mid-stride and turned glowering. "You want to repeat that?" she challenged. Dawn turned to face her, gaze hardening.  
"You heard me."  
Jo let out a condescending chuckle, "Oh, poor baby," she mocked. "I'm on top of the ladder and you're all the way at the bottom of the pit with the rest of the maggots. What are you gonna do about it?"  
Instincts normally dictated Dawn to flight rather than fight, but today seemed like such wasn't going to be the case.

Dawn tightened a fist. Jo leered at her.  
"I said, what are you gonna do about it?" Jo insisted. Dawn was in front of her before the question was finished, an open right palm landing in Jo's chest. The force of the strike crushed the air from Jo's lungs and sent her hurtling down the hall. Jo shook the daze from her head just in time for her to respond for the next assault. Dawn wasn't nearly as fast as she looked, but she still managed to hold out against Jo just the same. A salvo of palm strikes kept Jo from retaliating, and took the respite in the onslaught for payback. Jo's fist landed hard against Dawn's left cheek, the force of the blow knocked her dazed.

Dawn could hardly recuperate in time, Jo slapped her across both cheeks to keep the momentum in her favor. Dawn began to taste blood and was certain a tooth or at least a crown was knocked loose. This momentum Jo had gained was quickly reversed on her when Dawn blocked sent her spinning. Jo hurtled back and hit the ground hard. Dawn could sense Jo focusing her Aura. She tightened her fist and pulled back for a lunging punch. Dawn met her midway and tapping a pressure-point in Jo's arm. As sudden as she was moving, Jo was frozen in place.  
"What the hell?" Jo exclaimed, completely immobile.  
"Did you forget, Jo?" Dawn asked the paralyzed jock. "My Aura lets me reverse my opponent's Aura on them instead. Your Imprisoning Aura paralyses people, so I turned it against you." Jo struggled to fight back, little by little regaining control of her body once more.  
"Oh, you little bitch!" Jo spat at Dawn, fighting for control again.  
"Don't worry, it'll wear off in a minute or two," Dawn reassured, "But next time, Jo, remember that I can do a lot worse." She picked up her bag and passed Jo to her class.  
"Wait, come back!" Jo shouted, "I'm not done with you yet!" Students in the hall paid her no mind as they got class. "Dammit, my nose itches now."

Author's Commentary: This fight was going to be longer. Basically, Eva would come in and wreck Jo utterly and it would have been exciting to have. But looking at the chapter again and reading it through, I liked that I established what's going on in the school and what's set up. I wanted to leave it at that, basically. I figure Jo and Eva could have it out in a later chapter. I wasn't going to keep it going on longer than it should have. Dawn's Aura, the Eclipsing Aura, allows her to cancel out an other person's Aura and turn it against them. I kind of liked the idea, and thought it fit Dawn, who always seemed like a pacifist. In this case, though, she keeps the peace by using her fists.


End file.
